


Denial as Thick as Ice

by CapitalFantasy



Series: Ray of Sunshine [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hunk (Voltron) Has Anxiety, Hunk (Voltron)-centric, Hurt Hunk (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Self-Destruction, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27731545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapitalFantasy/pseuds/CapitalFantasy
Summary: Put on a smile. Nothing is wrong with you.
Series: Ray of Sunshine [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2028472
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Denial as Thick as Ice

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly didn’t know what to write down for the next part but eventually, I figured it out.
> 
> Also I know it’s a little early but - 
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!
> 
> Hope you all have a great day.

_"I am in pain,  
_ _you just don't know it._

 _Cause I smile,  
_ _through the rain,_

 _and refuse,  
_ _to show it."_

\- Anonymous 

Morning came way too early for Hunk’s liking.

Of course when you find yourself aboard an alien battleship somewhere far in the black void known as space and joining forces to battle an evil empire in an intergalactic war that’s been going on for over 10,000 years in the span of one year, the sun isn’t going to rise any time soon. If that wasn’t bad enough, try being a part of all that drama while suffering from an eating disorder. 

Talk about the cherry on the top.

A zillion miles away, and some more from planet Earth, was beginning to take its toll on the paladins. Hunk spent many a time lost in his memories, some he cherished and some he hoped to forget...

Most of his childhood was surrounded by family, friends, love and plenty of hugs. His parents were very supportive of their son's choices and as much as their hearts ached when Hunk left home to study at Galaxy Garrison, they knew he wanted this more than anything. 

Their baby boy had grown into an aspiring man. But despite exhibiting a muscular appearance, the same couldn’t be said for his heart...

Bullying had done many numbers on Hunk, primarily targeting his weight and crushing his self-esteem to dust. What once was a perfect picture was now a pile of pieces. His family always told him he was “perfect in every way” but looking in the mirror, how he badly wanted to take a hammer and smash it to bits.

No one should have to look at something so awful and grotesque. Fat covered his ribs and swallowed up his waist. His legs were too chunky and his swollen ankles were worse than a pregnant woman. Hunk despised his body and the thought of taking a butcher's knife and cutting off all the unwanted blubber didn't scare him.

In fact, it'd be a dream come true.

It frustrated Hunk being this shape, this size, this... figure. His family were heavyweight and buff, the fat and muscle levelling out in the same proportions. It was in his blood to become such a beast, and Hunk hated it. He hated it so much he wasted nearly every birthday wish to become thin.

That wish never came true.

No matter where he went, strangers would look him up and down, take in his huckery body before turning away to avoid and forget such horror. This was why Hunk never liked going out. The strangers, the looks, the hate. It was all too much. 

Doctors told him time and time again he was perfectly healthy and that there weren’t any underlying health problems. A little on the chunky side but nonetheless healthy. What wasn’t healthy was the outlook he gave himself; the raw hate, the black anger and the bitter sadness. This gradually grew into a cause for concern and when Hunk was only ten years old, doctors put him on a strict weight-gaining diet, a therapeutic schedule and small doses of medication. 

Hunk didn’t see what all the fuss was about. He’d gone out his way to lose weight and when he finally succeeded, he was punished? Are you kidding? Clearly the doctor did not have a bachelor degree in medicine as he was wrong about Hunk. He was overweight - the doctor even said that himself! - and yet, he was still healthy? 

It made zero sense. A party should’ve been thrown for Hunk’s efforts and succession, not put him on a diet and force him into family therapy. All the weight he lost was put back on by that stupid, high calorie diet. 

His parents assured him days on end everything would be okay and that he would “be better soon”. Better? How? By gaining weight and turning into an obese pig? Everyday, Hunk grew more worried of becoming bed-ridden and turning into the blob that ate everyone and everything if he kept on adding pounds of fat. 

When it was weigh-in day, Hunk would step onto the scales and hope the numbers would drop and the indicator would fall. However, this was never the case. His heart sunk as the numbers climbed each week. His mother and father would praise him for his hard work and the weight gain, but Hunk never saw, nor felt, what they did. 

He felt disheartened and betrayed his own parents allowed him to gain unnecessary weight, when really he needed to burn off the pounds. Why were they so blind? Hunk was trying to do himself and everyone a favour, but no one wanted it. 

Eventually, the feeling of failure broke Hunk’s heart into fractures and soon, it became too much. It felt like an elephant standing on his chest and a mountain pressing down onto his back. 

Through endless sessions of therapy, Hunk was finally (quote unquote) “better”. For him, he was still broken, held barely together by strips of tape. He was a perfect picture in a broken frame. Day in, day out the thoughts filled his head until he cried himself to sleep or dragged his limbs out of bed. 

In space or on Earth, he was no different to a broken doll.

A weak sigh leaves Hunk as the hollow feeling eats away his insides. Dragging a hand down his face, he contemplates hard about the long days of paladin work and the long hours of endless, dark thoughts. Exhausted and apathetic, Hunk decides it will be best to get some sleep in hopes of resurrecting the happiness and kill the tiredness. 

Throwing the thin blanket over him - if it covered all the fat, that is - the moment Hunk closes his eyes, a loud knock hits his door. 

“Hunk?” A voice outside calls as his eyes snap back open. “You in here?” 

Groaning tiredly, the set of words Hunk says are muffled as his face presses deeper into the pillow. “Yes. What do you want?”

A beat of silence follows and Hunk fears Lance may have caught onto the depressed tone in his voice. Damn it! He should’ve been more aware and controlled. Hiding his emotions was as bad as pigging out late at night. 

“You didn’t come to breakfast this morning. Is everything alright?” 

_‘I overslept breakfast?’_ Hunk ponders. He doesn’t believe it until a terrible rumble in his stomach came forth. One of the most important meals of the day, the kickstart to every morning and he had gone and missed it.

He never missed breakfast. Well, not in space he hasn’t. A few times at Galaxy Garrison but that easily flew under the radar as there were so many people attending different classes at random times. 

But with six other people aboard one gigantic alien ship, plus four telekinetic space mice and five mega robocats, something such as missing breakfast is bound to be noticed sooner or later.

Especially if you go by the name of Hunk Garret. 

“Hunk?” Lance’s voice sounded tense and concerned.

Lightly smacking his head over a simple mistake, Hunk pushes himself out of bed and trudges over to the bedroom door. It slides open and immediately, Lance fills in the space. His hand was hovering close to the outside panel but retreats when Hunk opens it instead. Hunk also notices he was wearing his paladin armour, the helmet clutched under his armpit. 

“Woah.” he gasps as his eyes trace Hunk’s face. “You look awful. Sleep bad?”

It didn’t take a mirror for Hunk to physically see the dark sandbags sag under his eyes. He could feel them droop lower and lower the more his body fought to stay awake. Lance was right. He did feel awful. In fact, he felt downright shit.

The sleepless nights had knocked him clean off his pedestal. 

Gritting his teeth to hold back a yawn, Hunk wipes a beefy finger under an eyelid to brush away the crust trapped in his thin eyelashes. 

“Yeah.” He admits reluctantly, “Guess I was overtired from all the work thrown at me the past week.”

Lance steps closer, eyes moving left and right as he takes in more of Hunk’s sleep-deprived form. “You sure it’s just the work? Do you need me to say something?”

A frown appears on his face when Hunk dismisses the offer. Something didn’t sit right. Hunk missing breakfast alone was a red flag, and now seeing him so fatigued, even hearing it in his voice, made Lance worry for his friend’s wellbeing. He himself encountered rough patches in life and now was a self-qualified master at seeing the same degrading effects on others. 

As of today, he took it upon himself to keep a closer eye on Hunk. 

“Lance, I’m not dying okay?” Intentionally adding a little humour to put Lance’s concern to rest. “I’m just a little tired. It’ll pass, but thank you for your concern. Where are the others?”

The question sparks a memory recall in Lance; face lightening up and a slender thumb points off to the side.

“Oh, right. Allura wants us to meet at the training deck in the next ten dobosh. She didn’t say what training she was going to put us through. We all know it’s nothing fun. It never is. I came to tell you but seeing how you are, I think Allura would agree if you missed today’s training-"

“What? No. If Allura wants me to train, then I’ll train. It’s important to prepare ourselves for the next Galra attack.” He says, walking back inside to grab the armour hanging on the coat rack. 

Lance invites himself in and doesn’t look too happy. “What’s important is for you to get some zzz’s. Sleep deprivation isn’t good for you, plus you’re going to be training on an empty stomach. That just makes this whole idea worse!”

“You think you can stop me?” 

Lance groans loudly. “Don’t say that. You sound like Keith. I really wouldn’t want two mullets running around this place. One Keith is annoying enough.”

Laughing softly, Hunk strips off his normal day clothes before pulling on the armour’s black undergarment that sticks to the many flabs of fat and hugs the squishy side-rolls tightly. It was like pulling on a second coat of skin that made Hunk feel revolting. The fabric pulled at parts he didn’t want to exist and a shine appeared on front as his belly pressed aggressively into it. If he inhaled too much, he feared the material would rip and tear, exposing the monstrosity he so desperately tried to hide.

A stuffed sausage is what Hunk referred himself to every time he forcefully squeezed the gelatinous body he’s trapped in into his paladin armour. He barely fit, so much so he felt suffocated at the extreme tightness compressing his chest; crushing his lungs like a nut splitter breaking a nut’s hard shell.

Why did this have to happen to him? What did he do to deserve this? Drawing the short straw never felt good. All his life he lived as an abomination, but now a chance had risen from the ashes. A chance to change his appearance.

A chance to set things right again...

* * *

  
  
“Remind me again, Princess what the whole point of this is?” 

Standing in the middle of the training deck, the paladins, suited and booted, were watching Allura and Coran fiddle with buttons and controls in the overlooking panel room.

Allura swipes away a touchscreen as another pops up. Without looking, she informs them that this new exercise is designed to strengthen their weaknesses and ultimately work as a team with a few new touches installed.

“I've downloaded new protocols into the training bots recently. They're faster, stronger and highly alert of their surroundings. You need to work as a team in order to sustain more ground whenever a fight becomes intense.”

“It’s too early for cardio.” Pidge grumbles, unimpressed she had to be dragged out of bed for some practical workout. 

Lance groans. “And I thought the beep test in P.E. was bad.”

Off to the side, Hunk snickers when Shiro slaps the back of Lance’s head. Lance mumbles an apology, a hand tenders the spot Shiro’s metal hand hit. 

"This will improve your fighting abilities and work better as a team. Some of your weaknesses may be other's strengths. You will put that to good use in order to grow stronger as paladins of Voltron."

Shiro, the only one in the group, looks impressed and raring to go. Keith may've felt the same, but it would’ve been much clearer if his face wasn’t so stoic. Lance and Pidge already look like they’ve given up and would want nothing more than escape this prison.

Hunk, however, was worried. Very worried. 

Sleeping in late was one thing. Missing breakfast was another. Training against robots on an empty stomach? Oh that's just the icing on the cake. Hunk never planned for the morning to go so bad, but when your body is worn out and your mind a train wreck, I guess sleep is the best medicine for such tragedy. Hunk was no stranger when it came to pushing yourself to the brink of collapse. Countless times in the past he made sneaky lies about his wellbeing, but in reality, he was utterly and completely exhausted. He was a hot mess and slowly, his mask started to crack under the pressure.

Unfortunately, it was his body who took the brunt of the force.

Last time he had a physical examination was when the doctors discovered many life-threatening problems his body was enduring due to his eating disorder. Purging had messed up his throat and stomach. What’s worse was that Hunk had to be rushed to the local hospital as an emergency after blood tests revealed his potassium levels were dangerously low. 

For the last two and a half movements in space, he had fell back into a state of despair. The past had come back to haunt him. Relapse was a bitch and this time, his family nor doctors were there to stop him.

He’ll show them. He’ll show them that all this time, he was right and they were wrong. 

“Alright team,” Shiro addresses, gaining their attention “stay sharp, stay focused and remember to do your best. Ready?”

“Ready.” His team respond. Like the proud space dad he is, Shiro smiles at their determination and confidence. Revved up, he looks up at Allura and gives her the thumbs-up.   
  
“Good luck,” Coran’s voice speaks through the intercom. “Initiating training sequence... NOW!”

With a push of a button, adrenaline spikes and flashes of colour ignite as the paladins unsheathe their bayards. Shiro activates his metal arm which glows its eerie purple. Parts of the floor open and out jump training bots with their weapons already out. They start to sprint towards the paladins, each locking onto a different member. 

Battle cries fill the air as the team split and commence fighting. Laser shots are fired and swords clash. Blocking punches and throwing kicks, it was always chaos whenever a training session involved physical altercation. Voices merge over the helmet speakers and any cries for back up were quickly instigated. 

Round after round, the paladins face higher-levelled training bots. Allura keeps herself busy by barking out several missteps, to which whomever try to fix. Over the next varga, despite how heavy their limbs become, the paladins push themselves onwards; raw adrenaline keeping their nerves alight and mind awake.

Hunk knew this was going to be some workout. It always is. But this one was about to head south very quickly...

Already gasping for breath, Hunk forces his tired body to carry on despite a gruff voice in the back of his head telling him to stop. He ignores it and continues marching to the sound of his own drums as another bot enters his line of sight, its sword raised high.

Switching positions, a wave of panic hits him hard when he suddenly stumbles. His throat locks up for a moment as Hunk nearly trips over but he quickly regains his balance and hoists up his hand-held cannon, aiming it towards the oncoming bot.

For some weird reason, Hunk struggles holding up the cannon that suddenly feels heavy. Looking down, Hunk notices a violent shake vibrate his arms like an earthquake and the muzzle of the cannon tilts lower and lower by the second. Though confused, Hunk is suddenly thrown off by an onslaught of intense pain piercing the walls inside his skull.

Grimacing in discomfort, Hunk shakes his head in an effort to rid the pain. It proved fruitless and not long after, both hands clutch the sides of his head as the pounding intensifies. If Hunk could describe the pain, it literally felt like a bomb had detonated. 

Fingers as fat as sausages press harder into his scalp as the pain grew and grew until it became unbearable. Hunk’s legs buckle as he tries to hold in his screams, teeth clenching to block sound escaping. This headache was no joke and alarmingly enough, his stomach now started to cramp, twisting like a coiled wire.

High-pitch ringing bounces inside his ear canals and Hunk could just about make out a collection of voices swarm him, but they very much so sounded as if they were submerged underwater. Everything grew extremely dizzy and Hunk swore the room was a spinning disco ball. 

Eyes prying open, black dots invade his vision. This was going down hill faster than Hunk could comprehend and it scared him. 

_‘What’s going on?’_ Hunk groans in pain for the thoughts are as loud as a megaphone. _‘What’s happening?’_

Desperately trying to keep his eye opens, Hunk notices a blurred figure crouch in front of him like someone kneeling to an injured animal. He swears a hand touches his shoulder, but it was too faint to tell. The figures’ lips were moving and Hunk wisely keeps his attention fixed onto them. 

“Hunk...” Was that Shiro? “... you okay.... Hunk?” Yep that’s definitely him. Why did he sound like he was miles away? 

“...something’s happening.... help him...” Lance? Pidge? What’s going on? Is everything alright?   
  
As the headache diminishes, Hunk is able to acknowledge more voices surrounding him from every direction. The blurriness ahead clears and behind it, emerges Shiro. Confusion hits Hunk like a bullet as he takes in Shiro’s seriously concerned expression. What he suspected to be a hand on his shoulder was indeed true after Hunk’s eyes travel up Shiro’s outstretched arm until meeting with an all-too-familiar metal hand laid atop of his shoulder.

“Hunk, are you feeling alright? Talk to me.”

The sheer panic painting Shiro’s tone makes Hunk panic too. Looking around, he finally discovers his collapsed self; knees turning numb as a heavy weight slowly crushes them, which was no other than his own pig body. Ignoring Shiro, Hunk gazes around and is quick to notice everyone else circling him, looking down at him with moderate levels of concern.

"Hunk?" He turns back around to face Shiro, who's frown tightens the moment their eyes meet. 

"W-what... happened?" Hunk asks, confusion clear in his tone. Lance and Pidges' faces drop and to comfort their fallen friend, they crouch either side. Their movement seizes Hunk's attention just as Shiro opens his mouth.

"You collapsed suddenly. Coran had to end the training sequence. Are you feeling alright?" Shiro tells him, space-dad mode activating.

Hunk's eyes widen. He did feel a little under the weather this morning, but never did he expect himself to nearly lose consciousness! Maybe he should slow down on the purging- NO! No, that's not happening. He can't afford to waste precious time patronising his methods on losing weight. If he keeps that up, he’ll be bedridden in no time. 

Shaking away that thought, Hunk looks to the ground which has strangely become interesting. “I am feeling a little light-headed,” Hunk admits though choosing his words carefully, “I didn’t get much sleep last night. Maybe I need to take a lie down, y’know? Refresh my brain for later.”

Allowing some time for his confession to sink in, Hunk feels he did a good enough job at hiding the full truth as it looks very much like everyone takes the bait. 

Shiro still looks weary. “You sure? You didn’t turn up for breakfast this morning - that’s unlike you Hunk.”

“I know Shiro. I guess I really needed a lie-in from missing hours of sleep during the night.” Hunk replies.

_‘Come on Shiro, just give in and take the damn bait. Don’t make this harder for me!’_

Hunk can inwardly breathe a sigh of relief when Shiro looks mostly sold, though Hunk can’t blame his leader for looking out for him when one of his own team members nearly faints. He’ll have to keep a low profile and wait it out until Hunk was sure he had Shiro and the rest of team off his back. 

“Okay. You can take the day off. Get some food and then get some rest. Your health comes first before training. Can you do that for me?” Asks Shiro, looking Hunk in the eyes. 

Hunk nods. 

A small smile appears on Shiro’s face. “Alright then buddy. You’re dismissed. Lance?” 

The second Shiro addresses Lance’s name, he receives his full attention. “Yeah Shiro?”

“Take Hunk to the kitchen so he can have some goo and then take him back to his dorm.”

“You got it.” He turns to Hunk with a soft smile. “Come on buddy. Let’s get you some brunch.”

Hunk doesn’t want to raise anymore concern so he compels himself to just go with the flow. Standing, he allows Lance to help him up as his legs are a little wobbly. The black dots may have vanished but the headache had died down to light thumping. Nothing a little water can’t fix.

“I’ve got you Hunk. Hey, I almost forgot. Since you didn’t make it to breakfast, we saved a plate of goo for you.” Says Lance when they walk out of the training deck and onwards to the kitchen.

Unbeknownst to Lance, the simple thought of food made Hunk sick to the stomach. He really wanted to avoid ingesting anything that contains obscene amounts of calories. His body is the perfect commercial ad of eating too much. Lance, Shiro, no one knew just how much Hunk wanted to change that.

“Thank you Lance.” Hunk plays along, the inside very different to what is shown on the outside.

Lance gives him a toothy grin. “Sure thing, buddy. We’re nearly there so you can have as much as you want.”

What Hunk wanted was to stay as far away as possible from the kitchen, away from the food, away from the fat.

Away from the gaining.

He would rather starve then ingest something fattening and repulsive that made him blow up like a balloon. A cold sweat washes over him as they walk towards another T-intersection, which Hunk is positive his dormitory is to the left.

Thinking on the spot, Hunk devises a plan to buy himself some time. “Hey Lance?” He waits until he seizes Lance’s attention before continuing, “How about if you go ahead and grab the goo while I head back to my room and get undressed. Sound alright?”

He doesn’t give Lance much time to reply - poor guy stumbles over his words as Hunk quickly thanks him before disappearing around the corner.

Sprinting into his room like the road runner, Hunk follows the breathing protocol to regain his breath back as he leans against the closed door. In that short distance he already felt like he had run a marathon. The urge to lose weight grew significantly.

Time was running out. By tomorrow, taking one step would be like running around the entire world.

In a flash, his uniform is discarded unceremoniously onto the floor on the opposite side of the room and replaced by his pyjamas. Hunk launches underneath the bed covers just as Lance walks in, holding a plate full of green goo. 

Clearly Lance’s mom had taught him well when it comes to food servings as Hunk’s plate was gobbled up by the slimy compound. Looking at it made Hunk gag. Yes Coran had mentioned the goo holds all the nutrients a human body needs, but nutrients meant calories and calories meant FAT. 

No way was it touching Hunk’s lips, let alone his stomach. 

“Here you go, Hunk. One plate of gooey goodness at your service.” Lance lightly jokes, holding the plate near Hunk. 

Hunk forces a smile. “Thanks Lance. Would you mind leaving it on the floor beside me? I’m not really hungry at the moment since I’m so tired. I’ll have it after I’ve had a nap.”

Now Lance was sure something was off. Hunk, no matter how tired or absorbed in his engineering work he was, ALWAYS ate something. Raising an eyebrow, Lance does as he’s told and carefully plops the plate down onto the floor all while keeping eye contact on Hunk. 

“Sure,” voice tight and firm “no problem.”

“Thanks.” Hunk says, letting out a perfectly executed yawn. 

Lance bites the inside of his lip as he watches Hunk close his eyes and snuggle deeper into the blanket. He looked cosy.... too cosy. Information stored in his head, he asks Hunk if he needs anything else. Once Hunk replies “no”, Lance makes his way out of the room and back to the training deck. 

The second the door closes, Hunk’s eyes snap open and he waits silently for a few seconds. With the coast clear, the blanket is thrown off of him and he leans down to pick up the plate. Hunk grimaces in disgust at the jiggly content wobbling stiffly on top.

Nauseous and vexed, Hunk carries the plate in front of him like someone taking out the trash, towards the en-suite. He throws the goo down into toilet and hurriedly flushes it away, watching swirls of green spin around and around before getting sucked up and gone forever. 

Hunk can breath once again. In that moment it felt like he was Prince Phillip battling Maleficent’s dragon and finally coming out victorious. Flushing the toilet again just in case he missed something, Hunk walks away and looks forward to getting a couple hours of sleep.

It’s just so happens that fate has something else in store. 

He really should’ve covered that damn mirror with a spare blanket or something big enough as to not see his repugnant reflection. Caught by it, Hunk makes the worst mistake and looks directly into the reflective glass. 

A black void swarms around him and the outline of his body begins to bend and shake into jagged lines. Gelatinous flobs of fat squeeze against and pour from under his shirt; his arms swell with fatty rolls smushed together like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man. His eyes are swallowed up by his intumescent cheeks and two-becoming-three chins sag down onto his puffy chest. Like whispers in the wind, the thoughts as sharp as knives brush past him.

 ~~ ** _“....disGUSting....!”_**~~ ~~**_“....viLE Pig.....!”_**~~

 ~~**_  
_** ~~ **** ~~**_“.....revOLting.....!”_ ** ~~

~~**_“.....let yoURSELF down.....!”_ ** ~~

~~**_“....a nOBOdy......!”_ ** ~~

~~**_“.....you’RE SIck....!”_ ** ~~

~~**_“....sO FAt.....!”_ ** ~~

**** ~~**_“.....piGGy....!”_ ** ~~

~~**_“.....disGUSting.....!”_ ** ~~

~~_**“....fAT SLob....!”** _ ~~ __ ~~_**“....you’RE UGly....!”** _ ~~

~~~~**  
~~“....suCH A SHame....!”~~   
**

~~_**“....fAILure....!”  
** _ ~~

_**~~“....obESE PIg....!”~~** _

~~_**“....you’RE SO STUpid....!”** _ ~~

_**~~“....worTHLess....!”~~** _

~~**“....disAPPOINted....!”** ~~ **  
**

~~_**“....yOU PIg....!”** _ ~~

~~_**“.....DISGUSTING....!”** _ ~~

“ **SHUT UP**!” 

Glass shatters with a loud _SMASH_ and large pieces _CRASH_ into the sink below. Heaves of air shoot out from Hunk’s parted lips, chest tight and throat raw. Nostrils flare as his lungs scream for air and bit by bit, Hunk’s eyes clear from dusty grey to chocolate brown. 

Gathering his whereabouts, Hunk gradually calms down; taking in a few steady breaths to slow his heart which was beating crazy. As his brain awoke after a horrible ordeal, a burning-like pain erupts in his hand. 

Forcing his eyes to move, Hunk looks up from the floor towards the mirror. He’s horrified by what he sees. Cuts oozing with blood, a fist is smashed directly into the centre of the mirror that now rests in pieces inside the sink below. His fist is drenched in red and the smell of copper stains the air like a permanent marker. 

Hunk freezes at the bloody sight.

_“W-what...? How did...? Did I just....?”_

As if he’d been stung by a bumblebee, Hunk pulls his fist away and watches smaller shards plummet down where his fist previously held them in place.

“Oh my God.” He gasps, clutching his wounded hand. “Oh my God, oh my....S-shiiit! Oh Christ. What the... oh no. Oh no, no, no, no!”

Trembling in fear, Hunk steps closer to the broken mirror. Droplets of blood hit the floor and tiny puddles begin to form but Hunk is too distracted to notice as his eyes linger ahead. 

He reaches the other hand out and carefully grazes the hollow dent. “W-what have I.... what have I...?” He could hardly speak, the shock overwhelming him greatly. One minute there was a mirror, the next.....

Hunk was no doubt appalled by his actions. He hated his reflection so much he punched a mirror in. Tears start to collect in his eyes and forgetting about his hurt hand, Hunk wipes away the tears that gush down his face like waterfalls. Streaks of red mark his cheeks and the more Hunk cries, the more blood stains his face. 

It was at this moment, Hunk’s heart broke, shattering to pieces....just like the mirror...

**Author's Note:**

> Remember to leave a comment or drop some kudos, us writers love that shit. 
> 
> Thank you and stay safe


End file.
